


Human Magnetism

by ashley_ingenious



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (almost I guess kinda?), Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, BAMF Stiles, Barebacking, Bottom Derek Hale, Dancing, Fingerfucking, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rafa being fucking creepy, Rimming, Top!Stiles, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashley_ingenious/pseuds/ashley_ingenious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was bored, which, he shouldn't be in a nightclub, but such was his life. The music was loud, but the DJ was fucking murdering tonight. The dance floor was packed, a mass of warm, writhing bodies. The smell of booze and clean sweat was in the air. The bar was crowded, drunk twenty something's clamoring for the newest IPA's, or obscenely named shots. Scott and Allison's hands moved quickly, both smiling and greeting everyone warmly. It was a good night for business, the brunette thought, on a sigh. He was just so sick of the whole thing.</p><p>So it's just his luck when the hottest guy he's ever seen asks him for a dance, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Magnetism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeames/gifts).



> Erm, so, I wrote this for [Eeames PWP Bingo Card](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/75161082668/how-to-play-1-use-as-many-of-these-words-as). I've never done anything like this before (not porn, I do lots of porn, just porn with certain words/phrases I had to hit), it was fun! 
> 
> Also! I finally wrote bottom!Derek, which is a thing I've been trying to do. So, like, yay...& stuff? 
> 
> Idk, enjoy it though!

Stiles was bored, which, he shouldn't be in a nightclub, but such was his life. The music was loud, but the DJ was fucking murdering tonight. The dance floor was packed, a mass of warm, writhing bodies. The smell of booze and clean sweat was in the air. The bar was crowded, drunk twenty something's clamoring for the newest IPA's, or obscenely named shots. Scott and Allison's hands moved quickly, both smiling and greeting everyone warmly. It was a good night for business, the brunette thought, on a sigh. He was just so sick of the whole thing.

He surveyed the club again, making sure to smile at everyone he made eye contact with. It wouldn't do to have people thinking the clubs owner wasn't social enough. Fidgeting in his seat, he decided he'd do better being up, moving.

He started to walk, sidestepping and avoiding collisions with the practiced grace of someone who did it for a living. Before too long, his hand was snagged and he found himself following a familiar blonde head over to one of the poorly lit booths pressed up against the wall of the club.

"Ladies," he grinned once he'd arrived and seen the full spread of females that had chosen to grace his establishment that evening. He called them his Sirens: Laura Hale, Lydia Martin, and Erica Reyes. They were at least as beautiful as they were terrifying, and Stiles would do anything for them. "What brings you out tonight?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and took a sip of something red and rimmed with sugar. "Hale's brother got dumped," she said, head tilting towards Laura, whose eyes were flitting between the group at the table, and the dance floor. "I'm sorry to hear that," Stiles drawled, smile still firmly in place. Erica shrugged. "Kate was a bitch. We saw this coming a mile off, but Der...he wasn't ready." They all took a deep, simultaneous sigh, and Stiles felt his own smile falling before Erica brightened. "Luckily, we're tight with the owner of Seattle's premier meat market. And you know the best way to get over an old one..."

Stiles tilted his head back and laughed. "Yeah, yeah." He teased, snagging Erica's drink and taking a sip. "You paying for that, Stilinski?" She snapped, eyes narrowed, but he just shrugged. "Sure. Actually, have Scott transfer your tab over. You guys are on me tonight." Erica bounced in her seat a little, and Lydia sent him a pleased smirk. Laura still looked worried. Stiles laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he said, leaning down so he didn't have to shout, "I hope your brother feels better." She nodded and Stiles straightened. "I gotta mingle!" He told them, voice raised to be heard over the music, "I'll be back around!" He made a circular motion with his finger and the girls nodded, understanding.

He was painfully sober for a man who'd be spending the majority of his night surrounded by drunk people, but the bass in his blood was it's own kind of high. The dance floor was calling him, like a physical thing, and he couldn't help but answer. He jogged up the steps to the raised platform, and seamlessly inserted himself into the crowd.

Stiles wasn't the best dancer, but he loved the music and found joy in it. His hips found the rhythm easily, and he let them rock and sway with his steps as he pressed through the maze of dancers. Maybe he'd head up to the DJ booth, compliment the guy on a job well done. He always liked the view of the club from up there, bluegreenred flashing lights shining down on happy, horny, drunk people. It made him feel like he was bringing joy to the world, one alcohol fueled dance party at a time.

Before he could make it though, he saw some commotion off to his left. They were right in the thick of it, and it'd be a bitch for security to get in here without ruining everybody's fun, so Stiles cut through the drunken press of bodies to see what was going on.

Both guys were tall, broad shouldered, one of them was impeccably well muscled, tight gray tank top clinging to his sweaty abs. They were squared off, not moving and entirely too far away for there to be any kind of friendly conversation going on. The dancers around them had shifted, sensing the tension. Once Stiles was close enough to see the talker guy's face, he knew exactly what the problem was. He stepped forward immediately.

"Yo! Douchebag!" He said, catching Rafael McCall's attention. The older man's eyes landed on his and then rolled. He let out a huff of exasperation and Stiles arched an eyebrow and took a step closer. "Problems?" Rafael's mouth twitched up into a smirk. "Same on as always, the pretty ones don't want to play." He reached a hand out for the muscled Adonis and Stiles stepped in between them, batting McCall's hand away. He got even further into Rafael's face.

"Look, I think it's sick, okay? Whatever fucked up pleasure you get from picking up tail in the club where your son works. It's an asshole move. And if it wasn't for Scott, you'd never be allowed in. But Scott, y'know, he's a good guy. He doesn't wanna give you the satisfaction. Me?" He leers, taking another menacing step forward. McCall's got him by a few inches, but Stiles has the power here, and they both know it, "I'm not a good guy. Give me a reason to call security. Have you escorted out, make a big ol' scene. Give me a reason to press charges, _Agent_ McCall."

The older man rolled his eyes again, but he took a step back. His gaze drifted over Stiles' shoulder once, before he turned and stalked off the floor. Stiles' eyes followed him until he passed through the club's main door. Only then did he turn around to soothe the guy McCall had bothered. And holy fucking shit.

The guy was his height, built like fucking Superman, dark hair tousled, like it was begging to have someone's fingers through it. His eyes were light, and wary. Stiles immediately schooled his features into a smile, and rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn't help but glance down at the guy's lips, the plush fullness of them. He wondered how they'd feel, how they'd open up for him if he pressed in a finger, or his tongue, or his cock. He took a step closer and stuck his hand out.

"I'm Stiles!" He was shouting now, wanting to be heard over the music but sensing that if he got too far into this guy's face, he'd bolt. As it was, his hand was left vacant while the other man considered it. "Derek," he grunted when he'd finally deigned to shake. Stiles nodded, and tried to shake off the electric thrill that snaked up his spine when their palms met.

"Sorry about that guy!" Stiles yelled some more, using his free hand to hook a thumb over his shoulder. Derek's hand was still warm in his as the other man shrugged. He tugged a little at his hand and Stiles dropped it like a hot coal. "Sorry!" He yelped, "sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You wanna dance?!" Derek yelled, and Stiles nodded dumbly because yes. Hell yes, he did. Derek nodded once, sharply, and then turned around, hips moving to the beat again.

Stiles just stood there for a minute, taking it all in. The way the muscles in Derek's back flexed, the way he bent his knees when he got really into it and how it made his ass (and Jesus Christ, that _ass_ ) bounce along to the beat. Stiles' fingers twitched. He knew his mouth had to be open, he just couldn't seem to remember how to work his jaw to close it.

Derek tossed a look over his shoulder, one that clearly said, 'you coming?' And just like that, Stiles' mouth clamped closed, teeth rattling against each other. He took a stumbling step forward, tripping over his own feet like he hadn't since high school. Righting himself, he closed the offensive gap between them until his hips were flush up against Derek's gyrating ass. He bit back a groan as their bodies touched, dick twitching and thickening at the opportunity to be this close.

He placed his hands on Derek's hips lightly, guiding them into a slow grind. The pressure against his cock was fantastic. It made Stiles want to lean in, get his mouth on the stubble of Derek's throat. Made him want to suck a bruise into soft, soft skin.

He tried to back off, knowing that any minute Derek would feel the hard length of Stiles' cock pressed up against him, and not wanting to freak the guy out. God only knows what kind of damage Doucebag McCall had done. But before he could take a full step back, Derek's hands had clamped around his and pulled him back in. When their bodies were connected again, Derek rolled his hips filthily, and Stiles thrust forward before he could think.

Derek let out a choked whine that Stiles felt before he heard. He dropped his head onto the other man's shoulder and let out a shaky breath. Derek kept grinding back against him, and Stiles' hips kept screwing forward in response. They were just barely still on beat, so -if pressed- Stiles could claim they were dancing rather than dry fucking under the frantic strobe lights, surrounded by people.

Derek's hand slid up Stiles' forearm, up over his bicep and shoulder, to wrap around his neck. Tilting his head back, the pale eyed man whispered, "touch me," and, **fuck** , who was he to turn down an invitation like that? His breath was stuttering, dick throbbing as he ran a hand up under Derek's tank top. He reveled in the way Derek's breath caught when he thumbed over a nipple, did it again just to be sure.

Unable to help himself, he turned his face into Derek's neck, mouthed at the skin there. Derek fucking _moaned_ and tilted his head to the side to give Stiles more room. Stiles let his other hand slide down to toy with the waistband of Derek's jeans, turned on beyond belief at the idea of reaching in, getting a hand around him, making him gasp and writhe and come while the music and the press of bodies made them invisible.

"Do it," Derek whimpered, and Stiles didn't know if he'd been speaking out loud or if Derek was reading his mind. "Fucking do it," he murmured against Stiles' ear, teeth catching at his earlobe as he worked his hips back faster and harder against Stiles. That telltale liquid heat was pooling in Stiles' spine. It was enough to shock him out of their bubble. He was about to come in his pants, rubbing off against some guy on the dance floor of his nightclub.

His hands flew to Derek's hips, gripping them tightly and forcing him away. The other man spun around, mouth open to protest, but what he saw in Stiles' eyes must've stopped him because his mouth twisted into a smirk. He took a tentative step forward, hands reaching up to cup Stiles' face and bring him in.

Their mouths met hard, just a clang of lips and teeth at first, but then Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek's hips again, dragging him closer but still far enough away that he wouldn't come all over himself. Hopefully.

He let his tongue dip into Derek's mouth, plundering and taking, learning every nook and curve. It was the same way Stiles wanted to fuck him, to take him apart and put him back together. Derek seemed to agree enthusiastically, moaning into his mouth and letting his hands thread into Stiles' hair.

"Shit," Stiles murmured, dragging his mouth down Derek's jaw, nipping at the skin of his throat. "Shit, you gotta let me...." There was a tug at his hair as Derek pulled him up so that their eyes met.

"Get out of here with me?" Stiles croaked out. And Derek, lips wet with their shared spit, eyes glassy with lust, just nodded his head.

 

* * *

Stiles slammed Derek back against the closed front door as soon as they got inside, attacking his neck again. Derek scrambled at Stiles' back, pulling his shirt up to his armpits. Stiles pulled back for a second to get it over his head, and do the same for Derek's shirt. He cursed under his breath when Derek's abs came into view. "Jesus," he muttered before leaning down and sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Derek mewled and threaded his hands through Stiles' hair, pulling him closer. Stiles ran his teeth over the sensitive nubs, careful not to bite. He alternated licking and sucking, tweaking the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Derek was making the most delicious noises above him, and Stiles didn't want it to stop.

He dragged his mouth across Derek's chest and drew the other nipple into his mouth. Reaching down, he undid Derek's belt, popping the button and drawing down the fly. He was struck by the sight of Derek's pulsing, swollen member, thick and leaking in the warm air of the apartment. A dribble of precome spilled from the tip, and Stiles lapped it up without thinking, going further and sucking the head of Derek's cock deep into his mouth. Derek keened and arched his back, thrusting his hips forward into Stiles' mouth.

Stiles choked, and pulled back to cough a little. He sucked a finger into his mouth and looked up at Derek, who was panting and gazing back down at him, eyes half lidded with pleasure. Stiles grinned and dove right back in, sucking Derek's cock back into his mouth, working his wet finger back behind the other man's balls, teasing over his hole. Derek let out a wanton moan and shifted so that his legs were a little further apart. Stiles grinned around his cock and pressed the spit slick finger into Derek's hole. His breath caught at how prettily Derek _opened_ for him. "More," the other man whined, rolling his hips down to get more of Stiles' finger in him.

He pulled back, drawing his finger out with him, chuckling at the whimper it evoked. "Greedy," he laughed, unlacing the boots in front of him and tugging them off. Derek was breathing heavily above him as he stepped out of his too tight jeans.

Once he had more space, he dove back in, licking at Derek's balls and pressing a finger to his hole, tracing around the rim. Derek's sharp gasps turned to whimpers, and eventually mewls as he tried to get Stiles' finger back inside him. " _Fuck_ ," Stiles panted out harshly against Derek's thigh. "Stiles, c'mon," Derek whimpered, knees shaking and threatening to give.

Smirking, Stiles stalled. "No. No I think I need you on the bed for this. Think I want you all spread out for me..."

He rose quickly, wincing and trying to ignore the press of his hard dick against his fly. Circling a hand around Derek's wrist, he pulled him into the bedroom, he ran his hands over every inch of skin he could as he guided Derek into position on the bed. The moonlight caught on the full cheeks of his ass and Stiles swore under his breath as he kneeled down into position between Derek's spread thighs. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to his left cheek, then his right, massaging his balls all the while until Derek was shaking and squirming again.

Without warning, he leaned down and licked a stripe over Derek's hole, gripping his cheeks and holding his ass apart. He smiled when Derek gasped, tongue tracing the rim of furled flesh beneath him until the tense muscles there started to relax. Kneading at the flesh of his ass cheeks, Stiles pressed his tongue to Derek's center and pushed, moaning when the soft flesh _gave_ beneath him and he could work his tongue inside slowly.

The longer he worked his tongue into Derek, the more He wanted to get his fingers inside, then his cock. Visions of stuffing the glorious ass before him plagued his thoughts and he moaned. Dragging his mouth away, he grunted, "top drawer on your left," before he dove back in. A minute later, the lube hit him in the shoulder. He chucked against Derek as he popped the cap open, and generously lubed up three fingers. The cool drip of the lube in his hands made him _ache_ to get his dick in Derek, to fuck into him until he screamed.

He pressed one finger in gently, sliding up to drape himself over Derek's back, mouthing at the nape of his neck. Derek was tight and hot around him, Stiles crooked his finger, massaging steadily and searching. When Derek let out a gasping whine, Stiles grinned filthily. "Is that it, baby? Is that where it feels good?" He ran his fingers over the raised bunch of nerves again. "Yes!" Derek gasped out, "shit, yes, more..." Swearing, Stiles slid in another finger, pumping in faster now, the obscene squelch of his fingers moving mixed in with his heavy breathing and Derek's desperate moans, filling the room with a symphony of sex.

"Now," Derek moaned, "please, now." Stiles shook his head, breathing heavy. "One more, baby," his voice was fucked out already, "can you take one more for me?"

Derek whined and nodded his head, working his hips back so that he was fucking Stiles' fingers. Stiles worked in a third finger, and Derek's back arched and curved like a cat, hips rolling to accommodate the girth. He was gorgeous, and the image was enough to snap Stiles' patience.

He pulled his fingers out and immediately started working at his fly. There wasn't time to get his jeans and underwear all the way off, so he shoved them down around his thighs and finally put a hand on his throbbing cock. Stroking it twice, he pressed the head up against Derek's hole while he slicked himself up. The older man's hips seemed to move involuntarily, jumping back against the intrusion.

Once he was lubed up, Stiles buried himself in Derek with one desperate thrust. They both groaned, and Stiles fell forward a little, mouth moving over the skin at Derek's back. His tongue traced the strange, swirling tattoo he found there. "Move," Derek gritted out, and Stiles grunted his agreement. Pulling back, he gripped Derek's hips firmly as he slid himself out, before slamming back in brutally. Derek shouted and Stiles hissed. Derek was tight, wet, and hot around him. The muscles of his ass were clenching and squeezing deliciously around the overheated flesh of his dick.

They fell into a punishing rhythm, Stiles making sure to stroke over that sweet little bundle of nerves as often as he could, making Derek moan and beg beneath him. Leaning forward, he wrapped a hand around Derek's needy cock, pumping and stroking it. Their combined sweat was pooling between them, aiding the hot slip and slide of their bodies and soaking the sheets beneath them.

"Don't...don't stop," Derek murmured, face half pressed into a pillow, mouth open and eyes squeezed tight. Stiles' head fell against his shoulder. "I'm not stopping, baby. Won't stop, I promise."

Their bodies were pressed so close together, lined up from knee to shoulder, and Stiles couldn't help but grind against him a little, stay close and deep, take him slow and thorough, like he'd wanted to while they danced. "Yesssss," Derek moaned like it was being pulled out of him. Stiles bit down into his shoulder and circled his hips again, pressing deeper. He tugged Derek's cock in a firm grip, counterpoint to his own thrusts. With his other hand, he pulled Derek back against him, wanting closer and deeper and more.

"Fuck," Derek whined, "you have to...I'm gonna..." Stiles nodded against Derek's skin and picked up the pace again. He let his hand twist up over the head of Derek's cock. Stiles' thrusts turned erratic and he felt his orgasm churning in his gut. "Come on, baby," he panted, "come for me."

And Derek fucking **did,** spurting off against Stiles' sheets with a hoarse shout that turned into a moan. His ass clenched up and Stiles swore, his own orgasm milked out of him with force.

"Jesus Christ," Stiles mumbled, toppling off Derek and over to his side. "Derek's fine," the other man muttered, half into his pillow. Stiles' laugh caught him off guard, and Derek turned his head to watch. Mid laugh, though, Stiles had a thought.

"Your last name isn't Hale, is it?" He asked, suddenly panicked. Derek's eyes narrowed, "it is..." He replied warily, but Stiles was laughing again. He pulled a pillow from behind his head and pressed it over his face, laughing up into it. It was only a second before Derek pulled it off, and looked at him with furrowed brows and confused eyes.

"God, you're gorgeous," Stiles breathed before he could stop it, and Derek's whole face softened in response. "And your sister's going to kill me."

The man above him froze, snorted, and then fell to his shoulder, laughing.

Stiles laughed too, up at the ceiling. He was happy, warm, sated, and definitely, _definitely_ not bored.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And...if you want, you can come bother me on [le tumblr.](http://ragegolightly.tumblr.com)


End file.
